


Stormbringer

by jtav



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Prequel, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 21:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8912536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jtav/pseuds/jtav
Summary: A year before the arrival of Avatar Korra, the triads are out of control. Asami knows she has to do something, and a mysterious man offers to train her. For Amon, it's a means to recruit a valuable asset. Infatuation is a complication he doesn't need.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moonwatcher13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonwatcher13/gifts).



There were days Asami was convinced that she had been born at precisely the right time in history; many of those days included a trip to Gao’s Electrical Emporium. The small, cramped shop in the Dragon Flats Borough always smelled faintly of oil. Shelves overflowed with machinery of all kinds: speakers, electrified coils of wire, lightbulbs, and thousands of other devices meant for the hobbyist inventor who wanted to get on with inventing. It would have been impossible for a shop like this to exist before the Hundred Year War and the founding of the United Republic, before the world shook off the technological stasis that had gripped it for a thousand years. Before men like her dad. He didn't like her wandering around the district so close to dark, but sending a servant would have deprived her of a chance to gawk at the spare parts and dream of new ways to combine them.

Besides, it wasn't the servants who had been in self-defense classes since they could walk.

A man stood a foot away, examining cable and microphones. He was better-dressed than most of Gao’s customers, his dark blue and gray shirt and trousers obviously new and well-made. Lines etched themselves around his eyes and mouth as he continued browsing. His profile was smooth and even, with a dark eyebrow that swept over an eye that was the color of ice at the Winter Solstice. Asami drew in a breath. _ He looks like a stage actor, maybe the one to play the tortured hero or the charming villain. _

But as his eyes continued scanning the shelves and the lines on his face deepened, Asami decided that he also looked like he was clueless about cabling. "Need some help?"

He started and turned to her. He was even better looking when she could see him properly. "Do you know what kind would be best for broadcasting?" His voice was deep and faintly rumbly. Definitely an actor. "I'm a radio enthusiast, and my associates and I are working on some amateur broadcasting. One of them was supposed to handle the technical aspects, but canceled at the last moment." He gave her a half-smile, disarming and slightly sheepish. "I'm somewhat at sea."

"Broadcasting you said? Like ham radio?"

"More elaborate. If everything goes according to plan, we’ll be the equal of any professional studio within the year." His face shone with pride, and Asami bit back any objections she might have had about the likelihood of that. Clearly, this man believed he was only the right machinery away from being a radio impresario. Who was she to judge? People had doubted her dad and look at him now.

"I see. If you want the really good stuff, we've just moved into consumer electronics ourselves." She finished through the cables until she came upon a tangle of them embossed with the Future Industries gear. "I'd recommend Future Industries mics and recording equipment, too. More expensive than Cabbage Corp or Varrick Industries but our sound quality is second-to-none and we last." Now it was her voice swelling with pride. It wasn't just that Future Industries had made her family among the wealthiest in the world; they did well by being the best. No cutting corners, no shoddy material.

The bell over the door at the front of the store rang in the distance, and the man straightened, cable in hand. "Thank you." His eyes narrowed as he seemed to really look at her for the first time. It wasn't lust in his eyes; it would've been easier if it was. He seemed to be peeling back layer upon layer from her jacket to whatever was beneath the blood and marrow that flowed through her veins. He seemed to want to  _ know  _ her. "Ms. Sato?"

She blinked at him. "Have we met?"

"No." His voice was smooth and even friendly, but there was something else there that made her tense. "I've seen you in the society pages, that's all. It's an honor to meet you."

"Thank you, Mr.…?"

"Ceruk. "He extended his hand and Asami took it. His skin was a sharp contrast to his fine clothes and dark and dashing features. His palms were rough, hard, and calloused, the hands of a man who had done manual labor for years. Interesting. "Shall we have Mr. Gao ring this up?"

But when they got to the cashier’s desk, Asami froze. Her mother had been burned to death eleven years ago, but the memory had been seared into her and the garish reds and golds of the Agni Kais were unmistakable. This one was young, barely older than Asami herself. His right hand was wreathed in fire. "Late with your rent, aren't you Gao? Looks like I'll have to remind you how important it is to pay on time. The Dragon doesn't like people who are late."

Asami's mind started working again with the speed of rusty gears. He was extorting Gao. It was as if he didn't care there were two people right behind him. Her father had told her that the Borough was a rough neighborhood, but she had had no idea that things were this bad. Her hand tensed. Her muscles and reflexes had been honed for over a decade so that she would never be weak or helpless again. But what good was being strong if she couldn't help those who couldn't help themselves? "Hide," she whispered to Ceruk.

"What are you doing?"

_ Helping. I hope. _ "Run," she whispered again and waved him back toward the safety of the shelves. Then she squared her shoulders and marched forward. Her instructors had taught her that the best way to win a fight was to stop it before it began. These people were cowards. Even her mother's murder had been a coward, attacking a defenseless woman and child while they were home alone. Show them the slightest bit of courage and authority and they would scatter like spider-rats before the dawn. "Leave him alone." Her voice was ice, the same tone she used on assembly line workers who showed up drunk.

He rounded on her. His teeth were yellowing, and his face was covered in acne. "What did you say?"

She made her voice harder. "Leave him alone."

Gao whimpered from behind the counter. "Asami, get out of here."

"Why don't you listen to him, pretty girl, before somebody gets hurt? The Agni Kais run the Borough. Always have, always will. And we take what belongs to us."

No, they stole and stole again. Money, businesses, mothers. And only people like her ever seemed to care. If she couldn't cower him, she could make him angry enough to be sloppy. "You couldn't steal candy from a baby. Why don't you pick on someone who can fight back? Coward."

He roared and charged her, exactly as she had hoped. His fiery fist made straight for her head, but Asami sidestepped him and his own momentum sent him flying towards the wall. He skidded to a stop just in time, but Asami was waiting for him. You ended a fight with a bender quickly or you were dead. Kick to the knee to force him down. Jabs to the stomach and sternum to lock down the fire and air chakras. A final palm thrust to his forehead sent him crumpling into a heap at her feet.

Gao came out from behind the counter, his hands shaking and his face pale and terrified. His voice cracked. "What did you do? What do I do now?"

Asami looked at him in surprise. "You live your life free of people like him. Call the police to come pick him up."

"The police?" His laugh was like a death rattle. "The Dragon has the police in his back pocket! And now he's going to kill me. I was only going to be broke before, but now this place will be ashes by nightfall!"

"Easy, friend." Ceruk emerged from somewhere that was much too close to qualify as hiding. "There are those who will protect you."

"You mean the Equalists?" His eyes were wide. "But I don't have anything to offer. I can't fight. I'm not rich. Do you think they could do anything for me?"

Asami tensed again. She had heard of this Dragon. A shadowy figure who supposedly ruled the Agni Kais with an iron fist. Nobody knew what his real name was or even what he looked like, but the moniker was on the front page of every paper as people breathlessly twittered about the people he had or would leave a charred cinder as he took over Republic City. Tabloid exaggeration. He was probably no worse than Lightning Bolt Zolt, which was bad enough.

She had heard of the Equalists too, who were led by an equally shadowy man known only as Amon. There was a man in the park who was always trying to get her to take the pamphlets. They were going to make the world pure again, free it from the tyranny of bending, whatever that meant. She looked down at the stirring Agni Kai. There were tyrants and thugs, but bending was only the tool they used, like Long Feng had used his mind or Varrick used his money. "Everything will be fine, as long as you’re brave enough. I'll send some security over."

Ceruk raised an eyebrow. "Very generous of you, Ms. Sato, but I don't think this Dragon will be dissuaded so easily."

"We won’t." The Agni Kai forced himself to his knees and summoned fire again. Asami stood transfixed. It wasn't the red, orange, or yellow flame she had trained against. It was blue fire. The fire that was supposed to be rarer than even lightning. The fire that Princess Azula had wielded before she went insane. Asami stood transfixed as the floor vanished beneath her. She had seen the fire only once before: the night her mother had died.

_ Asami woke to the sound of a heavy hammering on the door. Daddy was working late, but it didn't sound like Daddy, even when he forgot his keys and was really mad. She threw back the covers, slipped into her pink pig-bunny slippers and went to investigate. She tiptoed down the marble staircase to the foyer. The door splintered and flew back on its hinges. Asami gasped. The woman who swept in the house might have been even prettier than her mother if her face hadn’t been twisted into a snarl. She held the fire in her hand, but the kind of fire Asami had only ever seen in a storybook. The blue light cast shadows on her face and clothes that were an ugly red and gold. _

_ Soft, shaking hands came around Asami's shoulders. "Go back to bed, Asami." Her mother's voice trembled. "It's not safe." _

_ "Come out!" said the lady with the blue fire. "Come out or I'll burn this whole place to the ground!" _

_ Her mother took a deep breath, and when she spoke again her voice no longer trembled. "I love you, sweetie. Now, go to bed." She walked down the stairs as calmly as if she were in her evening gown and hosting a party. "What do you want?" _

_ "Same thing I've always wanted. People like you drowning in gold and jewels while I’m stuck in the dirt." _

_ "Take whatever you want." _

_ "No begging? No outrage? No protesting that you earned every yuan?" _

_ "I know what's important, and it's not this." It might have been a trick of the light, but Asami imagined she saw her mother's gaze flicker toward her. "Take it." _

_ The woman smiled but it wasn’t a smile like Asami had seen before. It was all teeth, like a dog scavenging for dinner."I like you. Shame I can't leave any witnesses." The fiery hands struck her mother, and she screamed. Or maybe it was Asami screaming. The blue light was everywhere. Casting shadows on the beautiful woman and what was left of her mother and this house that had once been so safe. _

"Ms. Sato!”

Ceruk’s shout forced Asami back to reality just in time to dodge a blast of blue fire. The heat of it was like being tossed into molten steel as it whipped past and kissed her cheek and hair. Her legs were rubbery; her movements felt like she was wading through tar pitch. It was too much, too fast. Cold sweat formed on her hands and the other side of her face. No. She was never supposed to see that fire again. The Agni Kais were just petty thugs.

A last image: her mother's body swallowed in the unearthly light, her body charring and shriveling in a crude mockery of a metamorphosis.

She wasn't supposed to be terrified. She wasn't supposed to die like this.

There was a shadow moving on her left. Ceruk moved with easy grace to step behind the Agni Kai. The man didn't even have time to turn around before two quick jabs to his spine sent him limply to the ground. Ceruk’s face was utterly blank, paying the Agni Kai no more mind than if he had been trash on the ground.

"Ms. Sato," he repeated. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." She would make herself be all right. Her mother's death was a long time ago. It was only the fighting and the suddenness of the fire that had scared her. She inhaled and exhaled deeply and evenly, as her instructors had taught her to do. Scared people died. "Thank you for saving my life."

"My pleasure." He took a deep breath of his own, and his face was no longer cold and ruthless, but the same sheepish smile he had worn when he had been picking out cabling. "That was impressive fighting."

Not impressive enough. She looked at the unmoving body and the head at an unnatural angle. "Is he dead?"

"No." His voice was cold again. "When he wakes, he might wish he were.”

“What am I supposed to do?” wailed Gao again.

Ceruk prodded the unconscious Agni Kai with his boot. “I suggest getting him out of here. Bring him to Beifong. That will buy you time.” He took Asami’s arm. “A word, Ms. Sato?”

Asami allowed herself to be led out to the alley behind the store. The air was sharp and cold, cutting through her like a knife. She took more deep breaths and willed the pounding in her heart to stop. She focused on the roar of nearby Satomobiles, the unevenness of the cobblestones beneath her feet, the icy blue of Ceruk’s eyes. Anything that was not the fire.

"Good," Ceruk said softly. "Keep yourself steady. That was the first time you've fought beyond sparring matches, wasn't it?"

Asami nodded. All her years of honing her body hadn’t prepared her for the sheer terror of a real fight with someone with the ability and will to murder her. She knew a hundred ways to make that firebender scream in agony—in theory. But she had depended on Ceruk in the end, as if she were some helpless damsel.

She had trained all her life not to be a damsel. "Can you show me how you did that?"

"Pardon?"

"I thought you were some kind of actor." Her voice was returning to an even tone. "But you aren't an actor, or not just an actor. That was the kind of fighting they only teach to special forces or Kyoshi Warriors. You certainly don't look like a Kyoshi Warrior, so I'm thinking retired military. And I'm willing to pay you a lot of money to teach me what you know."

His mouth hung half-open for a moment. A spark of pleasure broke through the fear and adrenaline that had nearly overwhelmed her. People were always underestimating her and thinking she must be a stupid heiress who couldn’t add two and two together. But then he smiled again. There was nothing sheepish about this smile. He gleamed like a newly-polished Satomobile. "Oh, well done. I’ve had many careers in my lifetime, including time as a mercenary. And it could teach you…" He let the words hang in the air. "If the price is right."

"Name it. I told you I would pay."

He shook his head. "I would think you would be better-versed in children's stories, Ms. Sato. The spirit never wants yuans for his help." His tone was light, but there was something buried just beneath. Warning.

Asami's skin prickled with a new kind of anxiety. He might not want the traditional firstborn child, but whatever he asked was going to cost her dearly. "What do you want?"

When he spoke, his voice launched a hundred hooks into her spirit. This was a man who could lead an army to its salvation or its doom. "I want to know what you would do with it. I would not spend my valuable time teaching a student who would hoard that knowledge and use it to benefit only herself."

"You want me to pass it on?"

"I was thinking something a bit more immediate." He closed the distance between them until Asami could hear his heavy breathing and feel the warm air of it on her skin. "You've seen the Borough in the thrall of bending gangs. I assure you that it's not the only neighborhood. The majority of the police don't think non-bending lives matter or they are in thrall to the bundles of yuans the triads throw their way. This city needs a champion."

"What? Like some kind of vigilante?" There were radio dramas about those kinds of people: men in half-masks and billowing cloaks who fought scientists with crazy gadgets and crazier schemes.

"Something like that. I hear the Equalists claim to be the champions of the downtrodden, but they were nowhere to be found today." He sounded angry.

"I don't think terrorist groups are really good at anything but pretending to be something they're not and hurting people."

"You don't think they can save anyone?" He stepped back. "Then yes, I would like you to be that champion, Ms. Sato. I want the Agni Kais gone."

Now it was Asami's turn to gape at him. The Agni Kais had been entrenched in the city almost since Yakone’s downfall. It was rumored that their power extended as far as City Hall; even with her dad's influence, no one had seemed terribly interested in finding her mother's murderer. And people like her didn't don masks and take down criminal empires, and she had panicked during her first real fight, and… "Are you sure you haven't mistaken me for the Avatar?"

"The Avatar is at the South Pole for the foreseeable future. I can't wait years for her when Republic City might be saved by one of its own.”

Asami suppressed a groan. Why couldn't he see? "You saved me, remember? If anyone's the hero here, it's you! "

His face changed again, his eyes distant and unfocused. "No one has called me a hero since I was a boy." He raked his hand through his hair, and focused himself with visible effort. "And you could be a hero. Far more than that, even. You composed yourself very quickly after a horrible shock. Immediately after that, you deduced something I had no intention of revealing to you. And, not to forget, you have considerable resources and engineering ability, as well as contacts in the very highest level of society."

He swept his arms out with a flourish. "In you, Ms. Sato, I see potential."

Asami couldn't find her voice for several moments. She had been flattered before, usually by boys with slicked-back hair hoping to get her into bed. Ceruk was handsome, but far too old for her, and he didn't seem to want that from her anyway. "I… I need to think."

"Take all the time you need." He finished something from his pocket. A business card with an address in a middle-class neighborhood near the harbor. "You know where to find me." He bowed. "Good day, Ms. Sato. Republic City does need people like you."

But as Asami stumbled back to her car, all she could see was the blue fire surrounding her.

* * *

 

The third time Amon let a clump of makeup fall into the sink as he applied the old scar for his meeting with Hiroshi he was forced to admit that the events of the day had affected him. It was supposed to have been simple. Pick up equipment for the radio broadcast after the chi blocker he had assigned the task had developed food poisoning. Shopkeepers like Gao were extorted every day; that was one reason the Equalists were necessary. And yet, here he was staring in the mirror like an idiot.

He had known how Hiroshi was proud of his daughter; the man could barely go five minutes without singing her praises. Amon had put it down to parental pride. Republic City boasted hundreds of beautiful, wealthy young women. Some of them were even clever. He had never imagined that Asami might be useful to the cause beyond what Hiroshi brought.

He had meant his impromptu pep talk. Many of the novice chi blockers reacted to mortal danger by vomiting or fleeing. Asami hadn't. And before the blue fire, she had moved with an efficiency that suggested those self-defense classes Hiroshi always talked about were money well spent. With the proper training—training he could provide—he could have another Lieutenant.

And she was beautiful. An uncomfortable warmth settled in his gut. No, beautiful was the wrong word. Asami Sato looked like a princess with her thick, glossy hair and tailored clothes. A princess who faced down criminals for shopkeepers she barely knew without a second thought. He clenched his fist. Enough. He was old enough to be her father. Yakone had terrorized Republic City and bragged of how he used his bloodbending to rape the wives of his enemies. His father had made Amon into a monster, but not one who would take advantage of a young lady. Besides, he had sworn off all attachment when he had donned the mask and hood.

_ You aren't wearing the mask right now. Remember how she moved like water? The way the light caught her hair? _

Yes, he had to focus on what she could do for him. Amon was a fearsome construct, but he had his limits. He needed someone who could inspire while he terrified: a gentler, more approachable face for the movement. Hiroshi could give a business presentation, but he got too wild-eyed when talking about equality. But Asami? Her voice had been calm even when she was asking the firebender to cease-and-desist. He could put her in front of a group of children—the next generation of any revolution–without giving them nightmares. She would be an ideal diplomat to send to the other nations once there revolution succeeded. That she could serve in that capacity or as a military lieutenant was a delightful bonus.

First, he had to convince her. It would have been easier if he could simply bring her into the movement outright, but she seemed to have bought the propaganda that the Equalists were nothing more than a terrorist group. He had to go slowly, and the idea of training her himself had its advantages. She might doubt herself now, but there had been a gleam in her eye when she thought of helping the helpless.

And he could kill two cat-birds with one stone. This Dragon, whoever he was, was becoming too powerful. He would be crushed just the same, but it would be easier to take care of him now so he could conserve his resources for something other than thugs. Who shouldn't have been able to wield blue fire in the first place.

_ And wouldn't it be nice to be Ceruk a little more often? To talk with her without terrifying her with the mask. You could make her your friend. Perhaps more with time. If she consents, that would be nothing like Yakone. _

Amon finished applying the scar and replaced his mask. It was going to be a long few weeks. Especially if Asami agreed to his plan.

He donned the mask and took a deep breath, discarding Ceruk and whatever remained of Noatak and becoming Amon. Asami was right about one thing; he had been an actor and that training had served him well. When he donned the mask, he stood with a straightness and stillness designed to unnerve and spoke with a growl designed to terrify. He had no time to sigh over heiresses.

Hiroshi was waiting for him in the command center. His shoulders were hunched and there were deep wrinkles between his brow. Not good news, then. Hiroshi bowed perfunctorily. Amon had never succeeded in instilling in him the reverence men like the  Lieutenant possessed. Amon "There's been a setback with one of the prototypes."

"Which one?"

"The glove. It keeps shorting out, and I haven't been able to figure out why."

Amon frowned beneath the mask. The glove wasn't as vital to his military plans as the planes or the mecha tanks, but they were still a critical weapon and an important symbol: the means by which ordinary people could contend with benders. He kept his voice even. "How can I help get the project back on track?"

Hiroshi grimaced. "Nothing, unless you know of a better way to get it through their thick skulls of my engineers just how evil and corrupt benders are! What I really need is another set of eyes with engineering know-how to take a look at the problem."

"Soon the world will know of the justice of our cause, but in the meantime…" Hiroshi was an anomaly; his followers for by no means stupid, but most of them were too poor to receive anything more than training in a trade. An idea struck him, and his hands tingled. There might be an easier way to win Asami to the cause. Hiroshi was always bragging about how intelligent his daughter was and how she enjoyed puttering around the workshop. "What about your daughter?"

Hiroshi paled. "Asami? No, I couldn't possibly. She must be kept out of this, for her own safety. There could be reprisals, arrests. She could be killed!"

Amon suppressed a sigh. He knew what it was to be protective of someone, but Hiroshi could be abominably thick for such a brilliant man. "She must know sooner or later, Hiroshi. You'll hardly be able to keep your membership in the Equalists a secret when we’ve taken the city. It would be better to make sure she's on our side now. Did you mention that she enjoys pro-bending? She may need some time to be weaned from bending propaganda."

Amon inhaled and felt the flow of blood in Hiroshi's body. Elevated heart rate, increased respiration. Even he doubted somewhere deep in his heart, though his voice was as confident as ever. "She'll come around when the time comes. I'm all Asami has left. She would never turn back on her own family. Not to side with her mother's murderers!"

_ Yes, because no one has ever abandoned their family before. _ He thought suddenly of Tarrlok, but brushed it away. There would be time for family reunions later, after they had taken the city and he had clinched his brother of their father’s corruption. He would turn Asami to the cause and save Hiroshi from his own overconfidence. Not that he would tell Hiroshi that before he had to. "As you wish. I'm sure you'll be able to solve the problem on your own in time. How are our other projects coming along?"

Hiroshi exhaled, and his vitals returned to normal. "The mechas and the planes are probably a year away from full-scale production, even in the most optimistic timetable, but the small arms only need field testing before we deploy them generally. We’ll be able to take back our streets soon."

"And finally put an end to the triads,” the Lieutenant said as he entered. He was unmasked and wore civilian grays and browns. He must just come in from doing fieldwork. "The Agni Kais are at it again. I had a shop owner blubbering about how they were going to kill him." He inclined his head to Hiroshi. "And apparently your daughter is responsible for kicking one of their thugs in the teeth."

Ah, well, if he cared about the credit, he wouldn't have bothered with another identity. "I would advise you to work on your daughter Hiroshi. Someone so brave and talented could only be an asset."

But Hiroshi didn't seem to hear him. "She  _ what?"  _ He dashed past Amon to stand in front of the Lieutenant. "What was she doing fighting the Agni Kais? She could have been killed!"

The Lieutenant shrugged. "Just what I said. The Agni Kais were shaking down that gadget store in the Borough. Your daughter happened to be there and fought the guy off, and now the owner thinks the Dragon is going to kill him and is begging us for help."

"Did he tell you anything else?” Amon asked. "Anything that might help us narrow down when, where, and how the Dragon might strike? Did anything unusual happen at the store?"

The Lieutenant scratched his head. "Now that you mention it, yes. He was raving about blue fire. I thought that was a once-in-a-hundred-year thing for firebenders? You want my opinion? He's just another robbery victim who went a little crazy."

But his revelation had the intended effect on Hiroshi. His face lost what color it possessed, his eyes dulled, and his lip trembled. "Yasuko," he whispered. "Asami fought that?"

Amon stood beside him "She's braver than you knew. A righteous cause gives us all courage." He turned to the Lieutenant. "I had originally hoped to end the triads in a very dramatic and public fashion to win support for our cause, but if this Dragon has found a way to teach his followers how to wield blue fire, he needs to be ended sooner." He turned back to Hiroshi. "You wanted field testing? We now have the opportunity."

"You have people in mind?"

_ One particular someone. _ "Yes, bring the prototypes to the armory. I'll see to their distribution."

Hiroshi gave him another perfunctory bow and left. "And the shopkeeper? Is he willing to join our cause?" Amon asked when he was gone. It would be nice if Ceruk had gotten through to him.

"No. He still thinks we're scum. He's just desperate and half out of his mind. Blue fire!” The Lieutenant's laugh was short and harsh.

"People once thought metalbending was impossible. Don't underestimate the Dragon. We cannot have a rival. Still, if the man is unwilling to aid our cause, there's very little we can do for him."

"Even without the blue fire, they can still burn the place down." The Lieutenant sounded vaguely shocked. "And he's still a non-bender."

"And we are still too weak to protect all those unwilling to offer nothing in return. Impress that upon Mr. Gao. If he joins, all will be well and we'll protect him as if he were a founding member of the revolution. If not…" Asami had said something about sending security. Probably not skilled enough to fight off a serious assault, but they might buy Gao time to run for his life. Asami. Amon stopped. If the Dragon sent the building up in a hail of blue flame, he wouldn't be able or want to keep that a secret. Asami would know and be filled with righteous anger. Ripe for the picking. And hundreds of others would swell their ranks as the terrified came to him. "On second thought, persuasion has never been your most useful talent. There's another agent I can send."

An agent who had already offered his assistance. "Now, as to the upcoming broadcast: I did manage to find someone to procure the needed equipment…"

Soon, he would have the city in the palm of his hand. He would have Asami at his side as a trusted soldier. That was all the revolution required. He told himself that it was all he required.

* * *

 

Asami never did figure out how her dad had figured out that she had been in the Borough, let alone about the Agni Kai, but she was going to strangle the person responsible.

"Dad, it's just the park! I will be perfectly safe in the park." She hated how young and whiny she sounded.

"You can do your exercises on the estate." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Humor your unreasonable father. Please, just for a little while." He reached across the desk to take her hand. "You could have been killed, sweetie, and then where would I be? Please?"

Asami swallowed the lump in her throat. Her dad's hair had been solid black before her mother died; it had grayed almost overnight, and it had taken him three months to put himself together enough to go back to work. "You can't protect me forever, you know. Especially if things are as bad as people say."

"Then I have to make them better." I just want to keep you safe." He sighed. “Home by dark?”

* * *

 

The feedback on the megaphone was loud enough that Asami covered her ears. "We want equality now! We want equality now!"

The man before her was about her own age, but he wore sideburns that hadn't been fashionable in the Fire Nation for sixty years and his robes and hat looked like they had been transported through time from Sozin’s court. "Join the Equalists today and help us bring down the corrupt Council."

The Equalists again, and again they were being cast as the saviors of the downtrodden. Flashes of color at the protester' s feet drew Asami's attention. Pamphlets. She picked one up. A hooded man in a white mask stared back at her with cold eyes that looked more yellow than gold. AMON IS THE SOLUTION was emblazoned on the bottom. She opened and read.

_ Join us, brothers and sisters. For too long we have been the prisoners of the bending elite, those who use their power to lord over others. This should not be so. The triads should not rule our streets, benders should not take our jobs. The Avatar is but a child locked in a distant fortress with no idea of how we’ve suffered. Only the fire of revolution can save us. Amon alone can save us. _

Asami frowned. "'The fire of revolution?' That sounds like violence. Do the Equalists want to kill people?"

He turned red and ran a finger around his collar. "Um, I don't know. Maybe? But just the bad people. Like Avatar Aang did."

"I thought Aang didn’t kill anyone? And he was a bender.”

"That's different!"

Asami looked back at Amon’s masked face. Something needed to change. People like Gao couldn't keep living like this. But there was something creepy in the way the pamphlet talked more about Amon than his goals. It was Ozai, not Aang, who had plastered his face across the Fire Nation and the captured parts of the Earth Kingdom. She had never been much for history, but she knew enough to know that plenty of innocents had died in the Hundred Year War.

_ But something does need to change, _ said Ceruk’s voice inside her head. _ And if not Amon, then who? Yes, innocents died during the war, but the alternative was the entire world burned to a cinder. Just like your mother was burned to a cinder. _

And just for a moment, Asami could see herself in an olive uniform listening to Amon as he sent them forth to change the world. There would be death, yes, but also people saved from the criminals who would have murdered them. Republic City would become a beacon of true equality, with a president chosen by all its people. And no six-year-old girls would watch their mother die. All she had to say was yes.

"The Equalists are nothing but anarchists." The voice that spoke was like silk, as soft and rippling as Ceruk was rumbly and commanding. "You're the true danger to the city. The Council ought to haul everyone here to prison for sedition and treason, but they're too blind."

Asami turned and blinked. If the protester seemed trapped in the Fire Nation of seventy years ago, the woman before her embodied the nation that Asami had visited with her dad since she was a child. Her dress was a deep crimson with slightly lighter lapels and her glossy hair had been tied back in a ponytail with a golden clasp. Her cheekbones were high and her chin came to a sharp point. Her skin was as pale and unblemished as Asami’s own, but her eyes burned with golden fire. The protester’s mouth hung open as he stared at her, but the woman merely raised her eyebrow and removed a pen and notepad from the pocket of her dress.

"I intend to shine a light on the corruption being allowed to fester in the city." Her gaze rested on Asami and flickered with what might have been surprise. "You're Sato’s daughter. Yes, I think I've seen you from across the ballroom. You shouldn't be consorting with people like this."

_ And who are you to care who I consort with? _ Asami took a deep breath. She must always remember her manners. "Yes, I'm Asami Sato." She held out her hand. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure."

"Kogyoku Ihara." She looked down at Asami's hand for a moment before taking it, but when she did her grip was iron and her skin was firebender warm. "Editor and publisher of the  _ Republic City Sun _ ."

Asami knew the name. Five years ago, Ihara and the  _ Sun _ had come from seemingly thin air to dominate the United Republic media. Champion of benders and of everything that Avatar Aang, Fire Lord Zuko, and King Kuei according to her supporters. She was xenophobic and authoritarian to her detractors. Either way, the public couldn't get enough of her graphic crime reporting and punchy language. Hiroshi had strictly forbidden her reading it until last year and the front page photo of a man who had been stabbed sixteen times had put her off the paper for good. "Pleased to meet you."

"You should stay very far away from these criminals," Ihara continued as if Asami hadn't spoken. "They...they don’t remember what it was like before, how much worse things were for, well people like you. Shouldn’t you be grateful at what you’ve been allowed to have peacefully?”

Asami took a deep breath. There weren't many people who looked down on her family for being entirely non-benders since before anyone could remember, but there were enough. She must always remember that she knew her value and that the opinions of people like Ihara didn't matter. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

But Ihara continued on. “The Council needs to take a firm line on sedition, not let little boys hand out pamphlets supporting treason as if they were newspapers!”

The protester finally closed his mouth. “I am not a little boy!”

"Worse. You people want to tear down everything the great Avatar Aang built and upset the natural order. And we coddle you because the Council is too busy bickering to take decisive action. Maybe it's time for different, more united leadership."

"Who? You?" Asami had met Councilwoman Michiko, who represented the Fire Nation, a few times, but she was nearly ninety and looked frailer every time. And there had been a lot of noise about how more Councilors should be made United Republic… Asami swallowed.

"If Fire Lord Izumi thinks it wise, why not me? I would be honored to serve and restore the Republic to the peace it was enjoying before this Amon arrived."

"But things aren't perfect, even without the Equalists." If Ihara really was transitioning from muckraking politics, Asami had to try to make her see what was going on in the city. "People are being shaken down by the triads. I was nearly killed by one of them a couple of days ago."

"Then you should have called the police, shouldn’t you?"

"People are too scared to call the police, and maybe they have a point." She lowered her voice. "He had blue fire. And now Gao is convinced the Dragon is going to kill him and no one can do anything. Why don't you report on that, if you care so much?"

Ihara took a half-step back. Her eyes were hard and her lips were a thin line "That was you? I am going to—“ She shook her head and the muscles in her face relaxed bit by bit as if they were controlled by invisible gears. "I think I will report on that. If things are as bad as you say, this is a job for Avatar Korra."

"The Avatar isn't here. Someone else needs to do something."

"Because she's a 'child locked in a distant fortress?'" Ihara smirked. "Yes, I did read those pamphlets.” She softened. “But his kind don’t stop at pamphlets. They never do. And you’ve already lost too much. Good day, Miss Sato.”

"I don't suppose I could talk you into coming to the meeting next week?” the protester said when she was gone. "Some of the stuff you said was really good."

"You think so?"

He sat down on the edge of the soapbox. "Yeah, somebody needs to do something. And we’re the somebody!"

"But the way you talk about benders and revolution, it's not right."

"It's not right that they get to lord it over the rest of us either. Look, I know some of us sound like we froth at the mouth. There's one guy, we call him the Lieutenant, who gives me the absolute creeps. But Amon… he’s something special. I only met him the one time, but he has a vision, you know? Everybody equal to everybody else. No thugs that only some Avatar can stand up to. Even picking our own leaders, instead of waiting for somebody like the Fire Lord or Earth Queen to do it for us. You’d like that, right?"

"Sure, I just…" Her shoulders slumped. Stuff like this with so much easier when it was a hypothetical in class. "I don't know."

She trudged home, lost in thought. Ihara was not someone she wanted on the Council. The Dragon needed to be stopped before Gao really was killed. Would it really be so bad to join with other people who wanted to help? And the democracy thing did sound good.

_ And what about the innocent people who would die? What about that new team that just started competing? The one with the cute firebender? Didn’t Butahka introduce them as being from the streets? They aren't any better off than Gao, but the Equalists just talk about benders. And who's to say Amon would be any better? _

She needed to talk to her dad. Asami let herself into the mansion and climbed the stairs to his study. His door was closed, but she could hear him talking to someone on the phone. "I told you to field test those things before you used them! You're lucky you didn't electrocute yourself. I'll be right there."

He opened the door, and the color drained from his face. "Asami." There was the barest quaver in his voice. "You’re home early."

"Something happened at the park. Who was that?"

"A client. Don't worry about him." He ushered her inside and motioned for her to sit. "Tell me what happened at the park. I haven't seen you with that look on your face since your pandapug died."

So she told him. When she got to the part about reading the pamphlet, his eyes went wide and flashed with rage when he heard what Ihara had said. But as always, he let her talk without interruption. She leaned back in her chair. "I don't know what to do. Do you think the Equalists are justified?"

He was silent for a long time. The crease between his brows furrowed deep. "I think Ihara is right about one thing. This won't stay at talk forever. There will be a war, and I would hate to see you mixed up in that."

"You didn't really answer my question. I don't mind fighting." She thought of the blue fire. That wasn't strictly true—she’d happily go the rest of her life never being in mortal peril again—but it needed to be true. "What good is my self-defense training if I don't use it? If it's for the right cause…"

"And you think the Equalists are the right cause?" There was a strange look on his face that Asami had never seen before. Thoughtful, hopeful, and terrified.

"No, they still scare me. But this Dragon scares me to. Blue fire, Dad!" She buried her face in her hands and exhaled. "What if there aren't any good causes anymore, just one that's less bad than the other?"

"Things are rarely black and white," he admitted. "It's good that you want to do something. Right now, just take a deep breath and wait. The right course will present itself in time."

And there was of course the third option. Her dad wouldn't be happy about  Ceruk, but at least being a vigilante only scared her to death. "There was a man who off—“

The phone rang before she could finish. Her dad picked up the receiver. "I told you—“ He went pale again. "Of course, sir. I understand. I'll be right there." He hung up and looked at her. "It seems the client’s needs are a little more urgent than I thought. Will you be all right for the night, sweetie? I may not be back until morning."

Morning? Unless her dad was tinkering with a new invention, the only client who got him to work straight through the night these days was… "We've got another military client, don't we? What is it this time? Flamethrowers? "

"Something like that. Classified, I'm afraid." He rose and kissed her on the forehead. "Good night, sweetie."

A few minutes later, the slam of the front door echoed through the house and Asami was alone. She sighed. Her dad was right. Someday, the right course would present itself. This would all make much more sense after a long bath and a good night’s sleep.

The phone rang yet again. "Mr. Sato?" Asami recognized the voice of Quan, one of the security officers she had asked to watch Gao. "We've got a problem."

"Dad’s not here. What kind of problem?"

"Miss Sato? You know that place you asked us to watch? I need backup, right now. Whole carful of Agni Kais cruising around the neighborhood. Six or seven of them. I think they’re casing the place."

“Six or seven?" A pit opened in Asami's stomach. Her men could handle three or four, but not half a dozen. "I'll be right there. Get Gao out. I think there's a back entrance."

"What if he won't leave? And what do you mean you'll be right there?"

"I mean, it'll take too long to mobilize security at this hour. I'll see you in ten minutes." Asami took a deep breath. She had wanted to know what to do next. Apparently, it was going to be stopping an arson. She ran to the garage and leapt into the driver’s seat of her car. The sports car was the fastest model her dad had ever designed for anything outside the racetrack. Asami have always enjoyed the humming power of the engine and the way she had been able to tame that power to take corners that would have sent anybody else into the wall. But tonight, her hands shook as she took the wheel. If she was too late, if Gao died because of her….

She pulled up just in time to see a red and gold roadster with a grill that had entirely too much gilding slowly pull up to Gao’s. Seven, as promised. Think, she had to think. How did you fight seven people at once? You didn't. You fought them one or two at a time. And you did that by creating a distraction. She looked around. There were loose cobblestones she could throw. No, too obvious. The driver of the car noticed her and gestured wildly to one of his seatmates. They looked over her. Like they wanted to rob her or worse. Which they probably did. High-end sports cars didn't come around the Borough every day.

Now, there was an idea. She edged closer, adjusted her collar so the necklace she was wearing called the glow of the streetlight, and hoped that she wasn't about to get herself killed. But only three of the Agni Kais got out of the car. Another two slipped out toward the side alley. Quan could take two. She could handle three. She hoped.

"You look like you've got car trouble," one said. In front of and slightly to the left of her, two others flanking him. Their eyes glittered in the darkness. "Don't you know it's dangerous for a girl like you out here?" He didn't summon fire.

_ Of course not. Makes more sense to rape someone, then burn them. _ Easy. She couldn't think about what they wanted to do to her. Just let them get close enough. He reached for her hand Asami pivoted at the last second, sending him flying into the hood. A sharp elbow to the face of one of his friends. Bone crunched. Turn, jab to the solar plexus. He crumpled to the ground, blood pouring from his nose.

The third charged her. Asami squatted low, back straight and grabbed his leg. He was heavy, but martial arts wasn't about strength; it was about momentum. She stood in a fluid motion and lifted him over her shoulders. He sailed to the pavement, joining his friends in the heap. She slammed each of their heads into the pavement in turn for good measure and surveyed the damage to her car. A slight dent on the hood. Dad would kill her, but it was worth it.

She turned to deal with the other two, who should be arriving to avenge their friends any moment. But the car was empty, and they were no Agni Kai’s on the street. She hadn’t been distracting them; they had been distracting her. No. No. No. She ran towards the alley. Quan and one of the other guards lay face-up on the pavement, their chests rising and falling with ragged breaths.

Quan lifted his head feebly. "Sorry. Two guys inside. You need to hurry."

She knelt beside him. "Anything inside the store can be replaced. I'm calling an ambulance."

He gripped her sleeve. "No! Gao’s still inside. Couldn’t get him out."

The pavement shifted beneath her. Fire was dangerous, but it was the smoke that she really had to worry about. Gao could be dead in minutes. And the RCFD wasn't fast even in the good neighborhoods. People were coming out of their homes and shops to gawk at the commotion. She rose and spun on her heel, pointing to a man at random. "You! Call an ambulance!" She took off without waiting to see if he had listened.

The back door had been forced open, and the telltale acrid smell of smoke poured out into the night. Asami pulled her shirt up to cover her mouth and nose and dropped low. Her eyes burned and watered. Blue flame pressed around for on all sides. She was going to die here, just like her mother, doing something stupid to save someone else. "Mr. Gao!" She coughed. "Where are you?"

There was a noise like a wounded animal to her left. Gao, trapped under shelves, the remains of microphones and phonographs surrounding him. The heat licked at her as she threw the debris in all directions and lifted him onto her shoulders. He moaned again. _ Sorry. Sorry. _ How to get him out? The flames were behind her now,  blocking the door. _ I really am going to die. Sorry, Mom. Dad. I— _ There! A window, unlatched. She and Gao made their way as fast as she dared before she yanked the scalding metal, flung open the window, and threw him a few feet to the bottom and followed with the flame nipping at her skirt.

Awareness of the outside world came in stages. The hardness of the pavement. A sharp, burning pain in her fingers. Indistinct, shocked murmurs. Sirens. A flash of light and the  _ click _ of a camera. Most of all, cold, fresh, clean air. She breathed in.

And fell to the ground as her strength finally gave out. What had she done? The three Agni Kais were still unconscious on the pavement. Asami held up her hand and winced as she tried to move reddened, slightly puckered fingers. A team of waterbending medics pushed past the crowd of onlookers and loaded Gao onto a stretcher. Another came for her.

Asami held her good hand up and forced herself into a sitting position against a brick wall. "I'm all right." She coughed again. "Just take care of Gao and Quan and the others."

Someone took another photograph. A man rushed up to her, carrying a notepad. "Bei,  _ Republic City Sun _ . Ms. Sato, any comments on this astonishing display of heroism? How did you know the Agni Kai would be here? Are you afraid of any reprisals from the Dragon?"

Asami ignored him and turned her head. Gao’s Electrical Emporium was a husk of brick and glass. The flames leapt higher and higher. The Dragon’s handiwork. Gao wailed. "My store!” he whimpered.

_ Something had to be done. _ There was still no sign of the police. Avatar Korra was halfway around the world. There was only her. "No, I'm not afraid." She forced herself to stand, using the wall a brace. "Excuse me." Let the Dragon read that on the front page.

The address Ceruk had given her was near the Southern Water Tribe Cultural Center, and might as well have been on another world than the Borough. This was the world she knew, with respectable brownstones and new Satomobiles. No one here had ever known anything but prosperity and safety. She walked to the third brownstones on the row, identical to all the others, and grabbed the doorknocker with her good hand.

She had almost decided that he wasn't home and that she was an idiot for coming here when he opened the door. His hair was mussed and his face was wet, as if he had just washed it. He wore a plain black shirt and trousers. "Asami." He blinked stepped back. "Come in."

His parlor looked like it had been transplanted from a furniture store. Plush, blue carpeting and dark leather for the couch—and no sign that anyone lived here at all. No photographs, no books, not even an errant handkerchief. "You live here?"

"I spend most of my time elsewhere. I just came in." He looked her up and down, and Asami was suddenly very conscious of the soot stains on her jacket and that her hair was a complete mess. "What happened to you?" He gestured toward her face. "You're bleeding.”

Asami touched her cheek and was rewarded with the feel of sticky liquid. Her legs trembled again. "Can I sit down?"

Ceruk eased her onto the couch. His hands were warm and strong. "Tell me what happened."

“The man we helped? The Dragon burned down his store. I got him out." What else was there to say?

But Ceruk’s eyes were as wide as if Asami had told him that she was the Avatar. "You ran into the burning building and dragged him out?" He looked like he was going to be sick. "You could have been killed!"

"Don't remind me. But he would've been killed if I hadn’t. That's why I'm here. People like Gao need someone who isn't talking about revolution to protect them. I want to teach me what you know. I can't—“ Her fingers throbbed and Asami hissed in pain. "Sorry. I grabbed some hot metal. It's nothing."

Ceruk cocked his head to one side. There was sweat on his temple. If Asami hadn't known better, she would have said that he was afraid. "One moment." He got up and headed for the back of the house. Asami heard the clattering of pots and the sound of running water. He returned moments later with a small bowl filled with water. His hands shook, and now he definitely looked like he was going to be sick. "Put your hand in, please."

Asami did. The water was as cold as a polar ice cap. "What are you doing?"

"Something I haven't for twenty years." He waved his hand over the bowl. The water shimmered and glowed. Warmth filled Asami. The pain in her hand faded away, replaced by a quiet tingle, as if he were stroking it. Asami closed her eyes.

"That feels good," she whispered.

"I'm…glad." His voice was rough and strained. "Remove your hand."

Asami did. Her skin was as smooth and pale as if it had never been burned. "Thank you." She looked at him. He was pale and shaking with the effort and staring at her hand as if he was afraid it would transform into a dark spirit. "Thank you," she repeated. "I didn't know you were a healer. I thought, the way you fought, that you were a non-bender." And the way he had seemed almost approving of the Equalists. Shouldn't a bender be the one who was most frightened of them?

"I’d prefer you think of me that way. I’ve done many things with my talents that I'm not proud of." He cleared his throat. "You said that you wanted to learn hand-to-hand?"

Subject dropped. All right then. Asami made a mental note to ask him more later. "You're right. Somebody has to stand up to the Dragon and we can't wait around for someone else to do it."

"Then I have one more thing to show you." He disappeared again and returned, this time with a glove. No, gauntlet would have been a better word. Mostly metal, with wires traversing from a circle at the back of the hand to a nearly identical one in the palm. "This delivers an electrical shock on contact. It was designed to allow ordinary people to incapacitate benders who abused their power. Or it would. I've never been able to get it to work. It’s yours if you can. Perfect for slaying Dragons."

Asami took it. It fit over her hand as if it had been made for her. Lightning with the press of her palm. It sounded amazing. Technology could make her into a bender of sorts. But then so many things had once seemed impossible. She closed her eyes, and blue fire danced in her vision as her mom’s screams echoed.

She opened her eyes. "All right."

He let out a breath. "Very well. I'll see you here tomorrow at sunset."

She stood. "I better head home. Dad should hear about this from me, not the front page of the paper." She frowned. "One thing though. You said you hadn't healed anybody in twenty years. Why me? There must have been other people who were hurt."

His hand came up to trace the outline of her cheek where it was bleeding. Asami could feel the warmth of his skin and held her breath. The creases around his eyes deepened. Far older than her, and he had seen things she could only imagine. That didn't seem to matter very much right now. He was warm and safe and strong. She leaned into his touch. "Because you needed it." His other hand hovered under her chin. Another millimeter and he could lift her face up to meet him.

But his breath hitched and he stepped back. "Good night, Asami." He was pale and drawn and terrified.

"I—what’s wrong?"

"We'll talk more tomorrow. Good night." And he sounded so frightened that Asami could do nothing but leave.

The night air was unnaturally cold as she drove home.


End file.
